Draco and Hermione
by ThinAsADime
Summary: Lucius has done something terrible, and it's left Draco mostly dead. He can't even sleep without memories of her.


**Author's Note/Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters related to the series. This story was inspired by When You Were Young by The Killers. Really, if you haven't heard it, go listen to that song right now. This story is rather depressing, but I think you'll like it anyway. :D Thank you for reading, and thank you for reviewing, if you do. Now! On to the story. Please do enjoy.

He curled his fingers in her hair, but something didn't feel right.

Their lips met, but something didn't taste right.

She whispered, "Draco," but she couldn't say it right.

Draco pushed Pansy away, and her back hit the wall a little more harshly than soft allowed. "Draco!" she gasped, and again the name sounded strange.

"Not tonight Pansy," he said, rubbing at his temples, the pain stemming from there echoing in his head.

"But Draco, I-"

"Pansy, go."

He said this calmly and it startled her more than it would have had he screamed.

"Alright," she muttered, walking out of their drawing room. "Come to bed soon."

He nodded and took a seat by the fireplace, its heat still radiating despite being long out. He shivered and closed his eyes. "Mione, I miss you," he muttered, rubbing at his temples again. "She's not you. She could never be you."

And suddenly his thoughts were carried back into the darkness, and his dreams sprang fourth, breaking into his sadness and yanking out the cause.

He curled his fingers in her ringlets, careful not to pull too hard. They felt just right to his touch.

Their mouths met and she laughed. The taste was so familiar he could lick at it in his sleep if he had wanted to.

She whispered, "Draco," and it left his lungs collapsing, making him completely unable to breathe.

His eyes snapped open, and the dawn was creeping in through the windows.

"Morning, Draco." Pansy said. She eyed him carefully from the doorway, and he wondered how long she had been standing there.

He took a deep breath, half expecting the scream pent up inside him to escape. "Hi, Pansy."

"Breakfast's ready." He stood from the place he had slept and followed her into the kitchen. She had laid out eggs and fruit; if he looked close enough he could see them beginning to decompose. "Go ahead, eat up. Orange juice to drink, yes?"

He glanced at her and nodded, and when she set the full glass in front of him, he only mumbled a half-hearted "thanks."

He stared down at his food and made absolutely no effort whatsoever to bring it to his mouth.

"Draco, you have to eat."

He watched her pick up melon with her fork and put it into her tiny, tight mouth. That mouth that only felt cold to him. That mouth that almost never smiled. He stabbed at his eggs and attempted to swallow, but the lump in his throat made it nearly impossible.

Pansy looked at him, her eyes uncaring. "You've been thinking of her again, haven't you? That mudblood."

His fingers tightened around his fork at the sound of that word sliding, filthy from her lips. "No, not in the slightest," he lied easily.

"Don't lie to me, Draco. Don't you even try."

His eyes met hers once more and she angled her glare to impact him the hardest.

"I'm not lying, Pansy."

"Say her name then."

"Hermione," Draco uttered, his pulse beginning to race.

"No. Her full name. Say the name of your child, the one your father killed while you watched." Pansy kept a careful eye on him while she broke him.

"No."

She slid her chair out from under herself. And strode over to him. Right in his ear she whispered, "Say your bastard's name. Say it. Tell me again, what was it? Its slipped my mind."

"He wasn't a bastard. He had a father." Draco said, nearly jumping from his chair, anger apparent on his features.

"And such a father you were," Pansy said, looking up at him. Despite her lack of height compared to him, Draco felt smaller than a fly.

He resisted the urge to let his fists fly, and instead chose to glare down at her.

"They're dead, Draco. Dead. And now all you have left in this bloody world is me," Pansy stated, walking out of the kitchen.

"_Draco, my son, tell me who these people are," Lucius said, smiling at his son._

_Draco looked down to see a woman and a small boy, bloodied and beaten, barely even there._

_The woman looked up and when their eyes met, both pairs began to water. She pulled the boy closer, holding him tighter against herself._

"_Oh, how sweet," Lucius said, kicking her in the back. Draco flinched, and this was not missed by his father. "Draco, do these people __**mean**__ something to you? Surely they do not."_

"_I…I don't know, I'd have to get a closer look." Suddenly, roughly, a large man forced Draco to his knees, and grabbed his hair. He pushed Draco's head down into the woman's face, and then the small boy's. The boy reached out a weak arm and muttered, "Daddy…" and Draco nodded, wanting to touch his son, but then remembering his arms were bound behind his back._

"_Daddy, is it? Hmm, Draco, you never told me you had a son. Get him."_

_The man that had been holding him threw Draco aside and scooped the boy up in his arms. The boy began to cry, reaching first for his mother and then for Draco._

"_Please," the woman begged, using all of her strength to sit up, "please give him back."_

_Lucius raised his wand and muttered "Avada Kedavra," and a green beam hit the woman right on the back. She fell to the ground, and the small boy began to cry._

"_Mione!" Draco screamed, tears blurring his vision._

"_Daddy!" The large man threw the boy aside and began the walk back to Lucius's side._

"_Don't worry, Drakie, daddy's right here, I'm coming." Draco scrambled to his feet, crossing the space between them in seconds. _

"_Avada Kedavra!" Just as Draco pulled the boy into his arms, he went limp. Draco looked down at his son, dead in his arms, and then up at his father. _

"_Your own grandson! How could you do this? How could you do this to me, father? The only people I've ever loved, and you've stolen them from me!"_

_Draco slumped onto the ground and began sobbing loudly, clutching his dead son in his arms, inhaling his scent. _

"_He was never my grandson. I would never have a mudblood for a grandchild," Lucius stated as he walked out of the room._

Draco felt cold water on his skin when the memory finally faded, and he was crying again.

Pansy knocked on the bathroom door. "Draco, are you alright?"

"Yeah," he said, shutting the water off and wiping his eyes. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped his towel loosely around his waist.

"Your father is here, Draco."

"Tell him to go home."

"You know I can't do that. You know what will happen if I do."

Draco stiffened at the thought of something happening to them; the only people he had left to share with him Hermione. The Weasleys and Harry Potter were his only friends left. Oh yes, his father knew of Draco's friendship. It was the only reason Draco had not killed himself yet, because he would have in a heartbeat if he didn't have all those other lives in his hands. He was the only thing protecting them, even if they didn't know it. Even if they didn't want to know it.

"I'll be right down."

Draco got dressed and looked at himself hard in the mirror. He thought about it many times; ending his life. In the end his heart won out, and he had to hold back from breaking down at the memory of Hermione and his little son Draco. Hermione had insisted on the name, though he wasn't particularly fond of the moniker himself, and was sure a child wouldn't enjoy living with it.

He was still thinking of Draco as he sat on the sofa next to Pansy, his suit's collar just a little too tight.

"Draco, my dear son," Lucius hissed.

"And what do I owe the pleasure of having you in my home for, Father?" Draco asked snidely.

"Oh, well, didn't you know? Pansy called me here."

Draco looked at Pansy confusedly, who returned his look with a smile.

"Well Lucius, I suppose you'll be quite happy to learn you have a grandchild on the way."

The blood drained from Draco's head, and he felt rather dizzy in those few seconds.

"Ah, yes, splendid news. What shall you be naming the child?"

"Draco Lucius, for the two men before him," Pansy said, digging her nails into Draco's flesh.

"What a charming name. I'll have a new branch for the tree arranged.

"You'll do no such thing!" Draco raged, as he stood up in a hurry. "I had a son named Draco. You had a grandson, Lucius. You killed him. You watched as I died inside, and killed the woman I loved, and our child! You sicken me." He stared at his father as if he had never seen the man before, like Lucius's face was that of a stranger's. Lucius sat there quietly until Draco had finished.

"You better watch your mouth, Draco. Especially with that Weasel girl expecting a Potter child. Wouldn't want Potter's wife and child dead now, would we?"

"I didn't want Hermione dead! I didn't want my son dead! But that didn't matter to you. Why are you pretending like it matters now, like you suddenly care? You don't. You'd rather me dead!"

Lucius stood and matched his son's glare. "You're right Draco, I would rather you dead."

"Then why don't you kill me, father? Neither of us would be breaking any promises. I promised not to kill myself, you promised not to harm them. You kill me, they can't be harmed. It's simple really, we'll both get what we want."

Lucius drew his wand and pressed it to Draco's chest. Pansy sat back, watching, smirking. She knew it would come to this, and she was happier for it. Her child would be taken care of, even if it was not Draco's, simply because it's "father" was out of the picture.

"Avada Kedavra," Lucius whispered, and Draco stumbled back a few steps before falling to the ground.

"_Hi Daddy. We've been waiting for you. Mommy's over there." The little boy pointed at a tree where Hermione sat, tying her hair back. Draco saw her and his breath stopped short._

"_Draco, baby, who's there?" she called, her hand over her eyes, squinting into the sun._

"_It's Daddy, moma!" Drakie called, grabbing a hold of Draco's hand, yanking him forward._

_Hermione's face relaxed, and she stood, quickly running toward the boys. _

"_Draco?" she asked, reaching up to touch his cheek. _

_He nodded, feeling rather strange. "What is this place?" he asked._

"_Well, I suppose it's heaven, now that you're here. How did you die?"_

"_The same way you both did," Draco said._

"_Oh…" Hermione said._

_Draco looked around, noticing the lush greens of the field around him, a small house on the hill a few miles away. _

"_Is that your home?" he asked, curious._

"_No," Hermione said, "it's our home. Welcome back. We've missed you." She took his hand and they started the walk back with their son. Drakie darted ahead, giggling._

_And her fingers fit his perfectly, and the body pressed against his was just the right size to fit the spot he had been missing for all that time. "I missed you both, too," he said. And for the first time in years, Draco smiled._


End file.
